Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas

To her, it was like watching a twisted drama unfold—one she had missed while carrying out her duties, letting William face the hordes alone so he could reconnect with his current self.

Meanwhile, deep in the monster dungeon, William stood bloodied—but none of it was his own. It belonged to the monsters he had just finished tearing through. He wasn't surprised. He had wiped out hundreds of them without taking a scratch, even though they were all in the Sprite Sovereignty realm—one or two levels above his own.

But that didn't matter. William was simply that strong. Against enemies within his range—or even slightly above—he was untouchable.

Not that he thought much of it. For him, this was just routine. What actually occupied his mind were the lingering thoughts from his last conversation with Elsa, just before the transmission from Grand Admiral John.

He sighed and charged at the next wave of monsters, muttering to himself.

"Looks like I misunderstood her... But seriously, why the hell are these monster hordes growing in number? And why are they all in Sovereignty realms now? If this keeps up, I'm in real trouble... Damnit. She's doing it again."

To her, it was like watching a twisted drama unfold—one she had missed while carrying out her duties, letting William face the hordes alone so he could reconnect with his current self.

Meanwhile, deep in the monster dungeon, William stood bloodied—but none of it was his own. It belonged to the monsters he had just finished tearing through. He wasn't surprised. He had wiped out hundreds of them without taking a scratch, even though they were all in the Sprite Sovereignty realm—one or two levels above his own.

But that didn't matter. William was simply that strong. Against enemies within his range—or even slightly above—he was untouchable.

Not that he thought much of it. For him, this was just routine. What actually occupied his mind were the lingering thoughts from his last conversation with Elsa, just before the transmission from Grand Admiral John.

He sighed and charged at the next wave of monsters, muttering to himself.

"Looks like I misunderstood her... But seriously, why the hell are these monster hordes growing in number? And why are they all in Sovereignty realms now? If this keeps up, I'm in real trouble... Damnit. She's doing it again."

It all reached a tipping point just a few hours later.

William was suddenly sent flying by a massive monster's attack, the blow slamming into him with enough force to launch him across the battlefield. Blood sprayed from his mouth like a broken sprinkler, and he crashed to the ground hard—landing ass-first with a painful yelp.

Somewhere, Elsa was watching. She laughed out loud.

Back in the dungeon, William's progress had reached 99.9%—just 0.1% remained before he would be in full control of the body, in every sense. But things had escalated. The monsters weren't just stronger now; their power had jumped another level. Worse, they now numbered in the millions, swarming and surrounding him from all sides.

He had burned through nearly all of his mana, and his body couldn't regenerate it fast enough to keep up. To make matters even worse—and frankly, a little humiliating—he'd become a plaything for the beasts. Surrounded, outnumbered, and drained, William was now being tossed around like a ball. The monsters hurled him through the air again and again, seemingly amused by their own game that they were liking.

Meanwhile, Elsa was watching everything unfold—and laughing so hard she fell out of her chair. Clutching her stomach with both hands, she rolled on the floor, gasping between fits of uncontrollable laughter.

"Haha—hah! Ahh, I can't—I can't laugh anymore—my stomach hurts!" she wheezed, tears streaming from her eyes. "But it's just—it's too funny! I can't stop!"

She kicked her legs, still laughing as she wiped at her eyes, breathless and giddy.

"William… oh, poor William," she snorted. "He never would've guessed he'd end up being tossed around like a ball by a bunch of monsters. This is so pitiful it's actually hilarious. Hahaha!"

Had William heard what Elsa was saying, he might've gone mad. As if being kicked around wasn't enough—now she was out there laughing at him, saying he might be liking the blood? Ridiculous. But fortunately—or unfortunately—he wasn't there to hear it. And right now, yes, he truly was pitiful.

The monsters weren't even letting him touch the ground. For minutes, he remained airborne, knocked from one side to the other like a ragdoll. They kicked him around relentlessly.

"Damn it…" William gritted his teeth in frustration. But there was nothing he could do yet. Drained and helpless, all he could do was endure until he recovered enough mana to make these bastards pay.

Five minutes later, he finally clawed back about 20% of his mana reserves—just in time to get slammed again, this time by a manticore's tail, which sent him hurtling into the sky.

But this time, he caught himself.

Midair, he manipulated his mana, stabilized his flight, and hovered there. His face was flushed red—partly from rage, partly from the deep, gnawing embarrassment of knowing what was coming. Elsa. The jokes. The endless teasing. She wouldn't let this go for decades.

His rage peaked.

With a roar, William summoned an enormous sphere of flame, mana surging as it swelled in his hands. He hurled it downward with deadly force. The fireball exploded upon impact, igniting the dungeon in a massive blast—dust and fire spiraling into the shape of a mushroom cloud. Everything within was obliterated. The mana signature alone cracked the dungeon's structure.

Hovering above the wreckage, William exhaled heavily, his chest rising and falling. He took in a long, deep breath—trying to calm himself, trying to regain control.

William inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, calming his nerves and relaxing the tension in his muscles. Below him, the dungeon's structure groaned under the weight of the destruction he'd just unleashed. Cracks spread like spiderwebs through the walls and floor, and within seconds, the entire dungeon shattered like glass—breaking apart into countless jagged fragments.

Then, in a flash of light, his airborne figure vanished—reappearing in the command room aboard the Ragnarök.

What he saw froze him in place.

He stood there, speechless, utterly stunned by the sight before him.

The moment William reappeared in the command room of the Ragnarök, he froze.

Right in front of him, Elsa was rolling on the floor—literally. She kicked her legs out, slapped the ground with her hands, and clutched her stomach like she was in serious pain. Her voice echoed through the room, a bizarre mix of laughter and crying, though the laughter was clearly winning.

William stared, completely stunned. She looked like she was having some kind of breakdown. Was she... crying? Laughing? Both?

His first instinct was concern. What the hell happened while I was gone? he thought. He considered moving toward her to check on her, but the scene was so absurd he hesitated. For a brief moment, a wild thought flashed through his head: Did she lose her mind?

But just as he took a step forward, Elsa suddenly stopped moving. She must've sensed his presence. In a snap, she went completely still, then quickly scrambled to her feet and turned to face him.

William was caught off guard but let out a small sigh of relief. She's okay, he thought.

Until she opened her mouth.

Elsa raised a trembling finger and pointed straight at him. Then she cracked. Her face twisted, and the laughter came back with a vengeance.

"Hahahaha—how was it?" she howled. "How was it being a ball for once? Was it fun? Did you like it? Want to try again? Hahahahaha!"

William's face turned bright red on the spot. Embarrassment surged through him like a second wave of fire. All he could do was clench his jaw, trying not to explode on the spot while Elsa laughed like a lunatic, tears still in her eyes.

Furious—and humiliated beyond belief—William pointed a trembling finger at her. His voice cracked as he tried to speak, his face flushed deep red, steam practically rising off his skin from sheer embarrassment.

"Y-You… Elsa… damn it!" he stammered. "I was worried about you! I thought you were hurt—and this is what I come back to?! You laughing at me like that?!"

His heart pounded, his face burned hot, and faint wisps of smoke curled off his shoulders as if his mana was reacting to the emotional overload.

Elsa, still wheezing from laughter, barely kept herself upright, but William wasn't finished.

Then, something clicked in his mind.

His eyes widened slightly. "Wait… you were rolling around like that… not because you were in pain or mourning or anything serious—but because you laughed too much? That's why you were crying?"

He stepped forward, shaking now from a mix of disbelief and rage.

"You were laughing like that... while watching me get tossed around by those damn monsters, weren't you?!"